


Flirt

by joss80



Category: NCIS
Genre: First Kiss, Flirting, M/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:25:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joss80/pseuds/joss80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has an unexpected reaction as he watches Gibbs flirt with a target for information, and Gibbs is apparently in no mood to stop putting his skills to use once he's back in the car with his Senior Field Agent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flirt

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the mad flirting between Gibbs and Melissa Dorn in Episode 1.12 My Other Left Foot. I got rather hot and bothered watching Gibbs work his magic. This fic almost wrote itself because I figured it was only fair to have Tony witness his Boss's mad skills. Right? ;)

The front passenger seat of the Charger is nice and warm under his butt as he keeps an eagle eye on Gibbs across the street. An overhead streetlight shines down on his boss, who is leaning casually against a wall and chatting up a pretty brunette who may or may not know something about their latest homicide.

He has to admit, it’s kind of hot, and he wishes he had a bowl of popcorn as he watches the action in front of him. He remembers Kate telling him something about Gibbs and his flirting prowess long ago, but he hasn’t seen it for himself until now.

Their target is in her early 40s, curly hair tumbling down around her shoulders and a short skirt leading down to long, lean legs. She shrugs her shoulders at something Gibbs asks her, and her cardigan rides lower over her chest at the movement. 

_Totally hot_ , Tony thinks as he tries to get a better look.

Gibbs is wearing well-fitted jeans and a teal blue button-up shirt that shows off his form and his eyes. He raises his eyebrows at her and gives her his trademark smirk, and his silver-gray hair catches the light _just so_.

_Totally sexy._

Tony catches his wayward thought at about the same time that he finds himself resisting the impulse to dash across the road and run his fingers over the short hairs at the base of Gibbs’ neck.

 _What the hell?_ And _damn_ but Gibbs knows what he’s doing. 

Tony is the self-professed ladies man of NCIS, but Gibbs’ moves are putting his own to shame. He watches as Gibbs flashes his thousand-watt smile, and his brilliant blue eyes crinkle along with it. The target blushes slightly as she leans her head to the side coyly and returns the smile. 

Tony shifts in his seat, a little less comfortable, and considers taking his jacket off. It’s a little too warm all of a sudden.

Gibbs leans forward to whisper something in her ear, and at the same time reaches out his hand to trace a lazy circle over the back of her palm. She giggles – the woman actually _giggles_ \- and ducks her head down shyly.

And that’s the moment when Gibbs turns his head quickly to look directly at Tony, and _winks_ at him. 

_What the hell?_

No, seriously now. He already feels like an intruder in their – albeit case-related – private moment, and now he feels like he’s part of some voyeuristic threesome too.

And what the hell does a wink from Gibbs mean? And why are his pants suddenly feeling a bit too tight? And no, his heart rate definitely cannot be… okay, fine, it’s beating out a staccato bongo rhythm in his fucking chest. OKAY?

And now Gibbs is sauntering back to the car - _since when does Gibbs saunter??_ \- and opening the driver’s side door, and…

“Hey,” Gibbs says in greeting, and Tony doesn’t know if Gibbs is still in mack daddy mode or not, but either way now it’s Tony who’s on the receiving end of that _smile_ and it’s a force to be reckoned with. But it’s Gibbs’ eyes that are his real undoing, their piercing blue depths half playful and half deadly serious. It’s mesmerizing.

Tony gulps, and he’s pretty sure it’s audible.

“Hey, Boss….” He trails off in a strangled groan, and shifts the dossier he’s holding so it covers his lap. Because, you know, he now has this completely un-fucking-expected hard-on that’s threatening to jump out of his pants and announce that he apparently has the hots for the man sitting right across from him. Or something like that. 

“You okay, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asks, as he leans in slightly closer and pats Tony’s thigh with his right hand. Tony can smell his aftershave, can imagine having that smooth jaw brushing against his own, and feels a drop of sweat run down his back. And Gibbs’ hand is _so close_ it’s almost torture.

“Uh…” is all he manages to get out. He doesn’t trust his voice. Heck, he doesn’t trust any part of himself. He’s already been betrayed by his dick and his brain is struggling to catch up to his body.

“She doesn’t know anything,” Gibbs shares, his hand still resting on Tony’s thigh. 

“Oh.” Tony can’t remember a time – ever – where he’s been reduced to being monosyllable man. He’s vaguely aware of his mouth hanging slightly open, only a split-second before Gibbs reaches his other hand up to cup his jaw and closes it.

Tony can’t help himself. He leans into Gibbs palm, and then scrambles back against his seat two seconds later as his left brain finally - _finally_ \- kicks in. Too damn late but at least he’s back in the game.

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with Gibbs?” he asks, his voice both fierce and tender at the same time. 

Gibbs chuckles quietly. “Just exercising some skills I haven’t used in a while,” he offers. He’s still looking at Tony in _that way_ , though, and Tony can’t keep a thought straight in his head because they keep unravelling in Gibbs’ baby blues.

“Not fair for you to use me as practice, Boss.” Tony’s heart drops at the same time his gaze does, and he’s still terribly confused by _everything_ but also, surprisingly, disappointed. 

The hand on his thigh squeezes slightly and Tony’s eyes zero in on it. Gibbs’ hand. On his thigh. Squeezing. Good Lord Almighty, it’s really not fair.

“ _She_ was the practice, Tony, not you.” Gibbs voice has dropped, and the ensuing silence in the car is filled with tension of the kind that Tony never expected he and Gibbs would be sharing.

He raises his eyes to meet Gibbs’ again, and finds their faces barely a whisper away from each other. It strikes him, then, in an epiphany with the suddenness of a bowling ball knocking over pins, that Gibbs has _intentions. Of that sort. With him._ For real.

And there is no time to think, but he knows, just _knows_ somehow, that he’s okay with that. More than okay, really. Especially if the still-at-attention state of his male anatomy is anything to go by.

Gibbs closes the gap between their mouths, then, and the lips that brush his are rough but pliable. Gibbs pulls back for a second, but when Tony gives him a small grin of encouragement he presses his lips against Tony’s again in a scintillating dance, and the thrill that runs up Tony’s spine as Gibbs urges his mouth open with his tongue is almost his undoing.

Yes, _already_. Fucking embarrassing, but he _doesn’t care_ anymore. It’s the first time in his life that he really _doesn’t care_ , and it’s liberating.

Tony loses track of how long it is until they break apart, and they both can’t seem to help but grin like mad fools at each other. Tony feels like he’s drowning in Gibbs’ smile, and he welcomes the waves as they wash over him, warm and safe and _definitely_ the biggest turn-on of his life.

“My place?” Gibbs asks quietly, and while Tony really appreciates that the older man doesn’t want to _assume_ , he is ready to get this party started, like, yesterday.

Tony levels his best eye-sex gaze at Gibbs and seals the deal.

“Yes.”

And he really doesn’t expect he’ll be talking in anything other than monosyllables again until tomorrow morning. And it’s all good. All very, _very_ good.


End file.
